


Tell Me A Lie

by bethyloumarts



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angry Harry, Angst, F/M, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-05 03:30:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3103871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethyloumarts/pseuds/bethyloumarts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ellie has a dream that one day she will make music for a living, but her parents aren't too happy about this. Thrown out and no where to go, what will happen when she meets 5 boys during her first night of homelessness?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am posting this work for my sister who has already posted it here:  
> [(x)](http://www.quotev.com/story/5836370/Tell-Me-A-Lie/)

Silence. There are people around me but I hear nothing. Only silence. I feel the rain dripping on my nose as I stand there shivering in the cold. Guitar in one hand and a bag of clothes in the other. One dream. That's all it is.  And what happens? I get thrown out. Thrown out of my family home.  
  
My name is Ellie. I’m 18 years old. My parents are, how can I put this? Well off shall we say? I’ve been educated to a high level, and people say I have the capability to do great things. However the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do is make music. I got my first guitar for my 10th birthday because I wouldn’t shut up about getting one, and I haven’t put it down since. When I’m playing it, I feel like I can be me. I feel free. But the thing is, my parents had a different opinion on my dream. To put it bluntly, they hated the idea of me ever using music as a career.  
And that’s how I got here. That’s why I’m stood in the pouring rain, staring up at the perfectly painted red door. They threw me out.  
I guess you could say I saw it coming, they have always preferred my brother Patrick to me. He does everything they tell him to. As we speak, he’s in his room studying, and he will be until his eyes can’t bear to read another word and he falls asleep. I feel sorry for him really. He’s been twisted by their wicked spell. But not me. I refuse to become their puppet.  
  
Slowly tearing my gaze away from the front door, I turn to face my new life. My new reality. I rack my brain, trying to think of somewhere I can go. I have no family here. They all still live in New York, here in London I have no one. I still don’t understand why we moved here. My life was perfect. And now look at it. I start to walk around. Its pitch black and I can’t feel my toes it’s so cold. The rain is still beating down, my hair and clothes are now soaking. I finally find a bus stop with a roof and decide to sit there for a while.  
  
I soon get bored and start to wonder around again. I circle the neighbourhood several times, but my feet are starting to get tired. I need to find somewhere to sleep. Preferably inside. The only problem is I have no money. I had 30 seconds to pack my bag before I was out the door, and in that time I grabbed a few sets of clothes and quickly pick up my guitar. Way to go me.  
  
I find myself back at the bus stop. I unzip my bag and pull out my warmest jumper. I make myself as comfortable as I can before shutting my eyes. Maybe tomorrow will be better.  
  
What feels like 5 minutes later, I’m woken up. I rub my eyes and realise it’s still dark. It’s then I figure out that the noise that woke me up is the 5 drunk boys stumbling towards me. Great. I pray that they will just saunter past the bus stop. But of course, they don’t. I curl up into the corner and shut my eyes, pleading they won’t see me, or at least not talk to me. Their bodies crowd the space, which was tiny anyway, I can smell the alcohol from here.  
 One of them point towards me, he has blonde hair and a cheeky face. He whispers to another one of the boys, I can just about hear that he has an Irish accent.

“What’s a girl doing SLEEPING in a bus stop?” I guess he wasn’t talking as quiet as he might have intended. The boy he was talking to shrugged. He has longer hair than the Irish boy, it’s a lot darker as well. One of his ears are pierced, and there’s a small stud twinkling in the moonlight.  
  
“Leave her be, Niall.” Another boy speaks up, he has his hand placed on the Irish boy (who I have now discovered is named Niall.) Niall shrugs.  
  
“Sorry, I just think that she should be somewhere safer, a bus stop in London probably isn’t the best place for a young girl like herself to be sleeping.” I manage a small smile in Niall’s direction, even though I haven’t said a word sine they arrived in my new bedroom.  
  
“I agree, what’s your name love?” A different boy asks me. I can detect his distinctive Yorkshire accent. The boy crouches down to my level. He has sparkling blue eyes, which are searching mine for an answer to his question.  
  
“Just leave her alone. I’m sure she’s absolutely fine. No person in their right mind would sleep in a bus stop if they didn’t have to, so she clearly has her reasons. I say we leave her be.” The final boy snaps.  
He’s tall, with toned arms and perfect curls tumbling off his head. He has a defined jaw and smooth skin. His eyes are a beautiful green, and his teeth are dazzlingly white, however I don’t detect them to be unnatural. You can see the veins in his arms where he is clenching his fists, his knuckles as white as his teeth. “Louis, let’s go. The bus isn’t gunna get here any faster than we can walk.” The blue eyed boy stands up, giving me an apologetic expression as they all exit the bus stop. All of them, apart from the curly haired boy, looking back at me before they turn a corner and disappear out of sight.  
   
I stretch my arms, yawn and settle back down to sleep, thinking that I would never see those boys again.


	2. Chapter 2

Sunlight streams through the bus shelter, causing me to squint and shield my eyes with my hands. For a moment I wish that being kicked out was one awful nightmare.  
  
 Nope. Still here.  
  
I slowly stand up, stuffing my jumper back into my bag. I look around, the streets are bare, which I thought was quite unusual, considering I am in London. It must be early. I lift my wrist to check my watch for the time, but it’s not there. That’s something else I’ve forgotten. I figure that there’s no point in sitting in a dirty bus stop, waiting for someone to rescue me, so I start to walk around. This time I make an effort to look for places I didn’t aimlessly wander past last night. I come across a street which I don’t remember seeing, strolling down it, and I can see a large green clearing, a park I’m guessing.  
  
There are children running around, the sound of screaming filling my ears. I gravitate towards a lonely bench, far away from all of the bustle. Pulling out my guitar, I start to pluck on the strings. I do it quietly, so no one will hear me, even though they’re probably not bothered anyway. But I’m used to playing quietly so no one is able to listen.  
  
I sit there as long as I can, trying to avoid the fact that I’m going to have to sort my life out sooner or later. All of a sudden I feel someone blocking out the sun. I angrily look up, annoyed at the person who has disrupted my peace. Stood in front of me was one of the boys who I met last night at the bus stop. I don’t think I found out his name, but he told, urgh what was his name? Niall? I think it was Niall. He told Niall to stop questioning me yesterday when he asked why I was sleeping there. He seemed nice. He smiled down at me before taking a seat next to me on the bench.  
  
“You sound great.” He said, a sweet smile plastering his lips. All I could do was stare blankly at him.  
  
 _Say something, Ellie. Anything. Today might be good._  
  
“Th-thanks.” I said, turning slightly to cover up my rosy cheeks.  
  
“Sorry, I never introduced myself. I’m Liam.” He cleared his throat and held out his hand for me to shake.  
  
“Ellie.” I replied, shaking his hand in return. He had lovely eyes, and a kind face. I could tell he wasn't going to be like that short tempered moron with the curly hair.  
  
“So, how long have you been playing?” He said, snapping me back to reality, I shruged slightly.  
  
“About 8 years now.” He smiles again, he looks impressed.  
  
“Wow. Well I would love work together. I’m in a band.” He says, looking straight into my eyes, making my heart flutter like crazy.  
  
 _Keep it together, it’s just a boy._  
  
“S-sure, that would be gr-great.” I manage to spit out. His smile spreads, if that’s possible.  
  
“Well why don’t you come over now? We’re practising today.” He asks, and I think I can detect hope sparkling in his eyes. Usually I wouldn’t dare go anywhere near a stranger’s house, but Liam seems genuinely kind, and well, he’s hot. So it must be fine.  
  
Walking to Liam’s house, we get to know each other a little more. I tell him why I was sleeping at the bus stop, and he seems to understand. And in return, I learn all sorts of interesting things about him, including the fact that he’s one of five in the band I’m going to meet.  
  
 Wait, there were 5 boys at the bus stop last night. That must have been the whole band. My heart starts beating so hard, I’m surprised Liam hasn’t heard it. They all seemed kind yesterday, even though it was clear they had all been drinking. Apart from one. Those curls give me the shivers just thinking about them.  I don’t really know why, he just scares me a little.  
  
Soon we arrive at a house. Stepping inside, I can hear boys chattering in the distance.  
  
“Follow me, I’m sure they will love you!” He sounds so enthusiastic, but laid back as well. I just feel ill.  
  
Liam leads me through the house into a small room at the back. Inside its dark, but it’s more cosy than creepy. There is a recording booth in a corner, which at the moment is being occupied by who I think is called Louis. I can also spot an electric, acoustic, and bass guitar in one corner. Turning around there is also a piano and drum kit. These boys obviously take their music as well as I do if they all of this gear.  
Liam clears his throat and the chattering stops, and everyone turns around. Niall comes up to me and studies my face.  
  
“You’re the girl from the bus stop last night aren’t you?” I have to say that I’m pretty shocked that he remembers me. I gulp slightly and confirm that I am. “I thought so! What were you doing there? Are you okay?” He seems genuinely concerned, which shocks me even more. How could someone be so kind when they hardly know me?  
  
“I-I’m fine thanks.” I stutter, starting to feel uncomfortable with everyone in the room staring at me. They probably think I’m crazy for sleeping under a bus shelter.  
  
“Niall, you’re scaring her again.” Someone else pipes up. My eyes follow the direction from where the sound came from. I’m met with the blue eyed Yorkshire boy, who I believe is called Louis. He holds his hand out and I shake it politely. “Louis. Pleasure to meet you love, I’m sorry about Niall.” He says with a small giggle, earning a playful slap from Niall.  
  
“I’m Ellie.” I say, a smile playing on my lips.  
  
“I’m Zayn.” I see the black haired guy appear from behind Louis and Niall. He looks quite shy, his head is bowed slightly, but I don’t blame him. For all he knows I could be a murderous lunatic.  
  
“Nice to meet you.” I say, earning a nod in reply from Zayn.  
  
“And this,” Louis says grabbing the evil curly headed man by the shirt, and shoving him in front of me, “is Harry.” I could tell Louis was trying to lighten the mood between us, after what he said last night. It didn’t work though. All I got from Harry was a glare. His green eyes dancing with anger he spoke,  
  
“What are you doing here?” His words came out more of a growl than anything else. All of a sudden the room fell silent, the awkwardness building up more by the second.  
  
“Um, Liam invited me. I p-play the guitar.” I sounded quite sturdy considering I could feel my hands starting to shake.  
  
“Hm.” Harry grunted in reply. So much for trying to win him over then. I saw the veins bulge out of his arms once again as he turned towards Liam. “We don’t need a guitarist.” He said plainly, inching his way towards him.  
  
“I know mate, but you should have heard her play. It was incredible.” I feel awful that Liam has to stick up for me. Clearly Harry isn't the same sort of person as the rest of the band.  
  
“Harry, let’s just see how today goes. If Liam wants to collaborate, we should at least give it a go.” Louis tries to calm Harry down a little. His breaths are getting heavier, and his knuckles are going whiter than I saw them go last time I had the pleasure of his company. The other boys mumbled in agreement.  
  
“Fine, but don’t blame me when she makes us sound terrible.” Harry says through gritted teeth. He slumps onto a leather sofa which is placed against one of the walls. Making sure he avoids eye contact with everyone, he plus out his phone, not saying a word.  
  
This is going to be fun.


	3. Chapter 3

Stretching and lying back onto the headrest on the sofa, I close my eyes. I have been sat watching the boys mess around with different song ideas for the past 2 hours. They've been messing around with the instruments for what feels like forever.  
  
Well I say they, I mean Harry. It’s like he controls everything that goes on round here, whenever any of the boys come up with something different to his ‘vision’ of the song, they get shot down before they even finish their sentence. Anyway, I thought I was coming over to be part of this process, not watch it. I guess that’s not going to happen now that I've found out Harry’s in charge.  
  
I mean, I can tell they are all very creative, but they don’t get a chance to have their own input in what’s happening. I thought this was supposed to be a band.  
  
So far Harry has come up with a drum beat and a chord sequence, a few lyrics have been chucked around as well. I think it’s going to be about a girl who is insecure, and the boys are trying to tell her she’s beautiful the way she is. But it’s not getting very far with just one person doing everything.  
  
“I think we need a guitar.” I hear Niall say out of the blue. I instantly sit up, my eyes wide open. Finally. A smile spreads across my face and I start standing up.  
  
“Why, I think a guitar will just ruin the sound we’re going for.” Great. I slump back into the position I was in before, crossing my arms, a frown replacing the smile.  
  
“No, I think a guitar will give it more texture. I say we try it.” Liam chips in this time. I give him a weak smile but I know that if Harry doesn’t want a guitar, there will be no guitar.  
  
“Well  _I think_  I know the most about song writing so therefore  _I_  know what should and shouldn’t go in this song. You guys just need to trust me on this one, a guitar won’t work.” He sits down, running his hand through his hair and sighs heavily. “Guys, back to what I was saying-"  
  
“No. I want to try the guitar.” Liam says sternly, standing so he’s right in front of Harry. “If it doesn’t work then fine, we’ll leave it out. But I was the one who heard Ellie playing in the park, and  _I know_  she will take this average pop song and make it into a number one record. Please, we have to at least try, otherwise she would have come for nothing.” I can feel my cheeks heat up as Liam turns around and smiles at me. “Any ideas for a guitar part?” He says gently, using a completely different tone than the one he was with Harry, merely seconds ago.  
  
“Um, a few actually.” I sort of whisper back. I can hear Harry growl, and when I turn to look at him, you would have thought I just told him to go jump in a volcano full of guitars. Slightly terrified by his devil glare, I start to stand up, shuffling towards the electric guitar and sheepishly picking it up. “I was just thinking, instead of playing the chords on a piano, you could try doing them on the guitar instead. To give it a slight, erm, rocky feel I guess.” This earns a smile from Zayn.  
  
“Great. See, maybe she’s not such a burden after all, Harry.” Zayn says with a cheeky grin. “Give us what you got Ellie.” Knowing that all the boys, apart from Harry, were anxious to hear me play, my hands started to shake a little. But I didn't want to let this distract me, I took a deep breath and started to play the chords.  
  
After I finished, Zayn, Liam, Louis and Niall started to clap and cheer, causing my cheeks to resemble tomatoes.  
  
“That sounded so much better!” Louis exclaimed, a huge smile plastering his face. “You can’t say that wasn’t good Harry.”  But he didn’t reply. We all turned around to where Harry was sitting. But he wasn’t there. “Okay then.” Louis mumbled, rolling his eyes.  
  
“Don’t worry, he does that when he doesn’t get his way. That was fab.” Liam patted me on the back, giving me a small hug after, causing me to blush like crazy. “I think we should take a break, and record the music we have after.” Everyone nodded, most of them pulling out there phone and sitting down wherever they could; since it was such a small room. However I didn’t really feel like sitting, as I just did that for about 2 hours.  
  
I decide that I’m going to go find Harry. I don’t know why, it’s clear he doesn’t like me, and I don’t think I like him either. But I need all the friends I can get right now. I open the door to leave, telling the boys I need some fresh air. I’m not surprised they don’t argue, as I can see beads of sweat dripping down their faces just by being in here.  
  
Slipping out the door, I search every inch of the house looking for Harry, but I don’t find him anywhere. Wow, he must be pretty angry if he’s taken his tantrum to London’s streets. I’m about to go back into the tiny music room, when I catch his hair swishing around next to the window. I step into the cold, turn around, and sure enough, there’s Harry. He jumps slightly but just sighs when he sees me.  
  
“What do you want?” He says bluntly, and I have to resist the urge to slap him.  
  
“I want to know why you hate me.” I say. He’s silent.  
  
Do you know what? I’m just going to walk away. Why should I put up with Harry when I’m trying to be civil with him and he doesn’t even have the decency to answer my question? I turn around to go back into the house, but he grabs my wrist and spins me back round so I’m facing him.  
  
“I-I don’t hate you.” He’s looking straight into my eyes, his glistening green eyes looking down at me, scanning my face. His expression has softened, he looks…….guilty.  
  
 _Don’t be such an idiot Ellie, this is Harry we’re talking about._  
  
Yeah but for some reason un-known to me, he’s still holding on to my wrist.  
  
 _And now you’re talking to yourself._  
  
I have no idea what to say, what to do. Should I even say anything? Knowing me I will say something which  _will_ make him hate me.  
  
“R-right. Well that’s….nice?” Wow if that’s the best I can come with in this situation then that really says something about me.  
  
“I-I just have some stuff going on right now.” He looks down at the floor, and this time it’s not my cheeks going red.  
  
“Okay, well. Um, okay.” God why am I so bad at this. “Do you want to talk about it?” I say, as kindly as I can.  
  
“No.” He snaps.  
  
 _Okay then that clears that one up._  
  
“Sorry, I just, no.” Wait, did he just  _apologise_? This is getting weird.  
  
“Okay,” I say, trying to look like I know what I’m going to say next. “Well just, don’t hate on the guitar.” Way to be supportive.  
  
“Actually what I heard sounded pretty good.” He said, a small smile revealing his perfect teeth. He looks so adorable when he smiles. Wait, no. No he doesn’t. Defiantly not adorable. In any way.  
  
“Thanks.” I say, bowing my head not to show my blushing face. I giggle slightly, earning a chuckle from Harry.  
  
 _An apology, compliment and a smile all in one day. Mental fist pump alert._  
  
“We should go back inside.” I said, changing the subject.  
  
“Yep.” Harry said, popping the P.  
  
Maybe Harry isn't as bad as I thought.  
  
 _Woaah don’t get ahead of yourself there love._


	4. Chapter 4

*Harry’s POV*  
   
I wake up, and my head instantly starts to throb, causing black dots to start to appear when I try and sit up. Failing to keep upright, I fall back down, my head finding comfort in the soft pillows. Slowly pulling my arm up to my face, I feel a painful stinging when I prod around my right eye. Looking down, my knuckles are tinted red, and licking my lips, the faint taste of blood greeted my taste buds. Groaning, I close my eyes, trying to remember what happened to make me feel like this.  
   
Oh yeah, my once best friend Derek started going all psychopath on me in the middle of London because I still haven't payed up.   
   
   
Okay, so this one time I got in a spot of trouble with the police for causing a massive fight in a club, when a guy tried hitting on my girlfriend at the time, Tabitha. Long story short, when I was taken to the station, Derek managed to bail me out, Tabitha dumped me the day after, and life went on as usual.  
   
However, a couple of months later, Derek got rumbled for dealing some sort of illegal drug. I had, and still have no clue what it was. I was in complete shock at the time. He never mentioned it, and nothing he ever did made me feel suspicious, so I never knew what was happening until he got arrested.  
   
I was furious with him. Not as much because he didn’t tell me, because I wouldn’t have wanted to be involved in something like that anyway. But because neither of us, as far as I knew, had gone anywhere near drugs. We knew exactly what they could do to a person, and to those around them, and I sure as hell didn't want that happening again.  
   
Not after I had to see what they did to my family. My Dad died when I was 15 after an overdose, leaving just me and my mum. It wasn’t a shock to me, as he’d been hooked on them for as long as I can remember; I knew he was getting worse. But it hit my Mum as hard as a bulldozer. It was as if my Dad’s addiction was a finger in front a long line of dominoes, and each one carried a catastrophe which would manage to worm its way into my already battered life. After years of threatening to set the dominoes falling, slowly inching closer to them, his death finally sent them falling.  
   
The day after my Dad’s death, Derek and I swore we would never touch them. And then what happens? I find out he was a freaking dealer three years later. There was no way I was even going to try and help him. I didn't hear from him for a while, and it made sense when I found out he had been sentenced to seventy days inside.  
   
The day after he was released, I found him at my door. He looked absolutely insane, he'd lost weight, and looked extremely pale; I knew that prison had done something to him, and I knew I had lost him as a friend as a result. He marched into my kitchen, yelling and screaming, telling me we were supposed to be friends, and that we should have each other’s back. When I said nothing, he started to throw things. My mother rushed in, worry plastered on her face and tried to make him leave. With Derek in that state, I knew she wasn’t safe, and so I attempted to pull her out of the house, but Derek grabbed her by her wrist and pulled her to him, pointing the knife he had poised in his hand, at the throat.  
   
I knew that trying to talk to Derek would be absolutely pointless, so I calmly walk over to the draw where we kept our knives, and picked up the biggest one there, earning a gasp of both horror and concern from Mum.  
   
“Get out of my house.” I said through gritted teeth, being as stern as I could, but there was a small wobble in my voice.  
   
“You betrayed me. Left me for prison.  _Prison._  After I bailed you out when you were in trouble, you left me for prison.” Derek replied, sounding traumatised.  
   
“You were dealing  _drugs._  That’s different. Now let her go before I call the police and send you right back where you belong.” Terror flashed across his face, before a smirk formed on his lips. He applied a little more pressure on the knife, causing a small line of blood to fall on Mum’s neck and drop onto the floor.  
   
As quickly as I could, I lunged toward him, knocking the knife out of his hand. Pulling Mum away, I yelled at her to get out and call the police. Derek tried to grab hold of her again, but I made sure to stand in his way, receiving a hard punch in the jaw. I took a step back, trying to push aside the fact that I was becoming extremely dizzy. Anger boiling in my blood, I pounced on him, sending us both flying across the floor. Punching him again and again, I watched as he slowly got weaker, until he lay there completely still. The police came minutes later, taking him back to the station before he woke.  
   
That time however, he got let off with a warning.  _A warning._  He was threatening to kill my mum and gets let off. What a joke.  
   
The next time a saw Derek was a few months later, he wasn’t violent at all. It was pitch black, and when I saw him coming towards me, I’m not going to lie, I was pretty scared. But he didn’t punch me, kick me, or anything. He dragged me into a small alley, and we had a conversation which made me want pack up to move as far away from him as I could. But then again, he’s such a nutter he would probably follow me.  
   
“What do you want Derek?” I said, brushing his hand off me which was tightly gripping on my jumper.  
   
“Money.” He whispered. I never thought one small word could make my hands shake so badly.  
   
“M-Money?” I said, my voice starting to shake just as much as my hands.  
   
“Mmmhm. Seven thousand should do the trick.” His voice was a low whisper, barely audible.  
   
“You-You know that me and my Mum put together hardly earn enough to pay for food.” I whispered, blinking back the tears which were rapidly making their way to my eyes.  
   
“Maybe you should have thought of that when you abandoned me, huh? If you don't pay up, you’re Mum gets it. And I’ll make sure I’m not as gentle this time.” With that, he strutted off into the dark, leaving me stood like a statue.  
   
  
Shaking myself from the haunting flashback, I just lie there. It’s been a year since all that happened, and we haven’t even saved barely £500. Tears roll down my cheeks as I try and think of a way I can make some extra cash.  
   
I guess I've always loved to sing. Sure no one knows that singing has been something I've wanted to do ever since I was like five, because I've always waited until I'm completely alone to do it, so no one would judge me or whatever. But maybe if I busk for a few hours everyday, that could earn a few pounds....  
   
 _No, don’t be ridiculous._  
   
That would never happen, you couldn't write music by yourself as you have no clue what you’re doing, and you would need to write your own songs otherwise you will just end up doing the same songs every time. Plus even if you did try looking for a band or something, no one would want to be in it because everyone you meet thinks you’re a jerk because you’re terrible with new people.  
   
Just forget about it.


	5. Authors Note

Unfortunately, my sister has decided not to continue this fic but has started a sequel to her other fic here:

 

[http://archiveofourown.org/works/3305870 ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3305870)

 

if you wish to read!!

 

Sorry and thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Any questions? Come join me at [my tumbr](http://iamafandomslave.tumblr.com) !


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